Madame Rosmerta
by Bones365
Summary: Ron's always had a crush on a certain barmaid. When Rosmerta helps Ron out, can Hermione get over her jealousy to see what's in it for her? And just why is their daughter named 'Rose?


The pub was noisy and crowded by the time Ron pushed through the front doors. He took a deep, warm breath while he shook the snow off his boots. The pegs near the front of the door were laden with hats and coats from the pub's current occupants, and as Ron unwound his scarf from his neck, he couldn't find a place for it.

He gave up the search and instead turned his eyes to the tables and booths filling the crowded room.

"Weasley!" A husky female voice called to him from behind the bar. Ron smiled to himself and made his way to it through the crowd.

"Madame!" He echoed, leaning on the heavy oak bar and watching as his favorite barkeep expertly drafted several butterbeers and five shots of firewhiskey. She smiled at him.

"Didn't know if I'd see you in here today." She said, sending a heavy glass full of bubbling green liquid to a bald man at the end of the bar. "Figured you'd have better things to do?" She asked, raising her eyebrows at him. He scoffed and made a disbelieving face.

"More important than seeing you? I don't think so." He lowered his voice an octave and watched her smile grow. She pointed with her chin towards a back booth behind him.

"They're already over there. Been keeping my eye on 'em for you." She told him conspiratorially. Ron looked over his shoulder in time to see his best friend plant an enthusiastic kiss on a red-headed girl. He scowled and turned back around quickly.

"Not a close enough eye, I'd say." He grumbled.

"I do my best." She sighed. "How's our little project coming?" She whispered conspiritorily, leaning across the bar.

"Brilliantly. You should come by and see it soon." He said.

The bartender nodded and smiled at him. She straightened and pushed two steaming glasses of butterbeer at him. Ron opened his mouth to ask, but the woman grinned and pointed to the glass on the right.

"Extra ginger. Come on, Weasley! You don't think I know that by now?" She teased, flicking a damp cloth at him. He grinned at her. It's true that Ron had come here dozens of times. _Any excuse I can get to see Hermione._ He thought.

"I should have known. You're a genius, a lifesaver! Rosie, someday I'm going to name my first-born after you." He promised her, winking when she threw back her head and laughed before he turned to the back booth containing his best friend and his sister.

Thankfully the two had stopped kissing, so he didn't have to endure that. For now. As he squeezed and sauntered past the other patrons in the over-stuffed bar, he grinned and thought back on the past.

It was hard to imagine that two years ago, he an awkward, bumbling kid who was in love with his best friend and in lust with the curvy bartender. Ron sighed. If only his past self could see him now: flirting with Madame Rosmerta and looking forward to a nice shag with Hermione Granger.

_Yeah, I'm living the dream._ He chuckled to himself, finally setting the glasses down on the table in front of Harry and Ginny.

"Oi! Hands off my sister." Ron warned, flicking the ends of his scarf at the couple when they started leaning alarmingly close to each other. "Lay off for a few minutes, ok? There's only so much of that I can take!" He peeled off his heavy black cloak and allowed the snow-soaked cloth to thump onto the bench behind him.

Ginny scowled at him and Harry had the grace to look sheepish.

"If your own girlfriend would hurry up and get here this wouldn't be a problem." Ginny reminded him. He just shrugged and took a sip of his drink. Hermione would come as soon as she could.

"How's NEWT training?" Ron asked her. She rolled her eyes and Harry smirked into his own butterbeer.

"It's horrid! Like OWLs all over again but ten times worse. You can't even believe. I've got about three feet of essays every day, not to mention about a hundred pages of reading. I should have just done what you two did and skipped straight to training." She grumbled. Harry rubbed her back consolingly.

"Well, it's not like you want to be an Auror anyways." Ron said. "Have you heard any more from Gwenog?"

The three talked for a few more moments about Ginny's possible Quidditch career before Ron heard a tinkling voice across the bar.

"Ron!" Hermione waved and pushed her way through the sea of bodies. He had just enough time to stand up from the booth when she threw herself into his arms. He grabbed her tight and hauled her even closer.

He loved this girl.

Everything about her from her frizzy hair to her warm, vanilla scent. He smiled into the top of her head. He'd missed her so much this year.

Hermione pulled back enough to kiss him. _He loved this girl._

They ignored several hoots and whistles from nearby tables, but separated rather quickly. Too quickly for Ron's tastes, but they'd remedy that quickly. Hermione was pink, either from the cold or his kiss, he didn't know and didn't care. She looked lovely.

"Hey." He said, keeping his arm around her.

"Hi." She said back, rising on her tip-toes to give him a quick peck before pulling out of his arms to kiss Harry on the cheek.

When all four of them were settled, Hermione beamed up at him. "How's training?" She asked excitedly. He and Harry laughed.

"Hermione, I write you every day! You probably know more about how my training's going than I do."

She only grinned back at him. He couldn't help but smile back as he launched into stories of the Auror training camp, while Harry either stared sickeningly at his sister or added his own commentary. Soon the conversation moved to Hermione's own NEWT studies.

"They're so exhausting, but I feel like it's worth it because I'm learning so much, you know?" She was practically bouncing in her seat. Ginny scoffed.

"Hermione, no one ever knows what you're talking about." She grinned at Hermione from behind her mug and swallowed the last dregs of liquid before setting it down with a _smack_. She turned to Harry and her face lit up mischievously. "I want to go check out those new arm guards at Spintwitches." She said.

Ron averted his eyes before he could see Harry's face. If he were a betting wizard, he'd put money down that they were going to go on some secluded, romantic detour before they ever made it to the quidditch shop. _If_ they ever made it to the quidditch shop.

He heard the sound of a few coins on the table as Harry paid their tab and waved at them as they left. He let his eyes settle on Hermione. She looked back at him and smiled, turning slightly pink.

"So, how's training really going?" She asked, picking up her drink and emptying it. Ron sighed and waved to the bar. Madame Rosmerta poured them two more butterbeers and sent them over with a flick of her wand. He nodded at her before turning back to Hermione.

"Its…hard. I mean, it's nothing compared to the war, or anything. Harry and I are both doing really well, but…" Ron sighed. Hermione's hand reached down to hold his, their fingers twining together. "I can't help but think that I'm supposed to be doing something else." He told her quietly.

"What?" She asked, furrowing her brow. Ron shrugged.

"I dunno. I've been talking to George a lot lately. He's having some trouble managing the store, but there's only so much I can do from long-distance." He sighed and leaned back, enjoying the feel of Hermione's fingers stroking his arm.

"Well, do you want to give up training?" She asked. He had to laugh at the tentative tone in her voice. Giving up one's education was not something that Hermione could condone. Though she would for him, if that's what he really wanted.

"Don't worry, love. I'm not doing anything that drastic." He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it, making her blush. _I love that._ He thought.

"Let's take a walk." He said, looking out the window.

"Ron, it's freezing outside! The snow is-"

"Since when's Hermione Granger afraid of some snow?" He scoffed. "I think you'll be fine. I can carry you, if you'd like…" He chuckled when she swatted at his arm.

"Fine then." She gave him a look as they slid out of the booth and he helped secure her cloak around her. "But when my fingers go numb and my lips are turning blue-"

He bent suddenly to kiss the aforementioned lips. He smiled at her. "Then I'll just have to warm them up." He said loftily. They made their way to the bar, but Madame Rosmerta waved away his sickles and pinched his cheek before shooing him away. Hermione studied him as they stepped out into the cold street.

"Madame Rosmerta seems very fond of you." She said, looking at the road in front of them.

"Well, I'm in there a lot. We've talked a few times." He said. He eyed the book shop and sighed. "Alright, we can go in, but I'm only staying in there for five minutes. _five_ Hermione. And you can pick out two books. Only two." He shook his finger at her mockingly, but she was staring at a group of third-year girls giggling over a window display.

"How many times?" She asked, still looking at the girls. Ron frowned at her and came to a stop in front of the book store.

"How many times are we going in there? Blimey, Hermione, I know you like to read but-"

"No! How many times have you talked to Madame Rosmerta?" She pursed her lips and steadily kept her eyes away from him. He spread his gloved hands in an I-don't-know gesture

"Well, it's December? I come to see you at least twice a month and then we come every couple of weeks after training…Like, ten? Maybe?" He screwed up his face, wondering why the hell this mattered. She nodded and started walking forward again briskly.

Ron jogged a few steps before coming beside her.

"Why? What's she done?" He asked, thinking that there was some Hogwarts business that he wasn't aware of. Rosmerta wasn't the type to serve under-aged students, but maybe a few had slipped through or…

"Oh, she hasn't done anything." Hermione said, airily. "I'm just glad you two are becoming so well acquainted." Ron peered down at her. Even with her head turned away he could hear the sneer in her voice.

"What'd _I _do?" He asked, figuring he'd go straight to the most likely option for why she was upset.

She finally swung to face him and opened her mouth. She made an indignant noise in the back of her throat and stamped her foot. "You…you…you… don't even…" her voice got quiet and she turned suddenly away from him, stomping through the snow. Ron grew more confused but followed her.

He noticed her heading in the exact right direction, though, so didn't stop her rampage through the middle of Hogsmeade. He walked quietly next to her, and every few seconds she look up at him, scowling, and mutter under her breath. She stopped suddenly in front of an empty building with a heavy green door. Ron's breath caught.

_Did she know? How was that possible?_ But he let out a breath when she snapped at a few young boys looking through the fogged window attached to the door.

"Hey! What are you doing? You know this is out of Hogwart's boundaries." She crossed her arms menacingly. The boys jumped.

"But, Miss Granger, we heard-"

"I don't _care _what you heard." She glared. "All I want to hear is the sound of your footsteps heading that way!" She pointed behind her. Ron grimaced and felt bad for the poor kids. They hung their heads and began to walk past them.

"But _you're_ past the boundary…" One of them muttered just loud enough for them to hear. Ron blanched as Hermione shrieked.

"The Hogwart's line ends _here!_" She yelled, banging on the green doorframe. Ron had to hold back the urge to stroke the wood where she'd hit it. "And besides, I'm Head Girl! You don't think that means I don't have special privileges? I have more… You don't even… _Ten points from Hufflepuff!_" she screamed at them as they looked back warily and began to run away. Ron scowled and gripped her around the waist.

Before she could protest, he opened the door she'd just assaulted and practically threw her inside, slamming the door behind them.

"Bloody hell, Hermione! What was that about? Those kids weren't even-"

"They were, too, breaking rules, Ron. I guess you've done that so many times you don't even notice anymore!"

"Yeah, and if I recall correctly, you were right next to me pretty much every time. Giving me ideas. What's gotten into you? Why are you so mad about Madame Rosmerta?" He asked. She scowled at him.

"Oh, that's who you're worried about, is it? Precious Madame Rose-"

"I'm worried about you and the mental breakdown you seem to be having?" He said. He crossed the room and peeled off his cloak, flinging it down on the small couch. "You were perfectly fine when we left the pub, what happened between now and then to make you bite the heads off small children?" He whirled to face her.

She looked around, frowning. "Where are we?" She asked. He shook his head.

"No. Don't change the subject. What's wrong?"

Her head snapped around and she bit her lip. The anger was all gone from her. She mumbled something and ducked her head, making Ron strain to hear. He took a step closer.

"What's that?" He asked. She sighed and looked up at him, squaring her shoulders.

"I _said_ that I feel like the only reason you come here anymore is to see her. And I know you've fancied her for ages, and I can't always see you when you're here. I know you come to Hogsmeade with the other recruits and I'm stuck at school when you are and the times that I _can_ come down, you're not always able to get away. And She's prettier than me."

Hermione finished and looked down. Ron looked down, too, to where she was scuffing her shoe against the floor. He blinked several times.

"I'm sorry, what?" He gaped at her. _But really, _he thought, _what? _Hermione frowned down at her foot.

"I said-"

"I heard what you said. I just don't think I understand. You're…you're _jealous_ of _Madame Rosmerta?_ The barmaid? How is that…even…possible?" He asked the ceiling, running his hand through his hair. He looked down to find Hermione looking at him.

"Well, it's like I said. You've fancied her for ages-"

"I've fancied _you_ for ages!" Ron sputtered.

"-and she's around more than me-"

"She's around because she owns the bar. The bar where I go to see _you!"_

"And she's pretty-"

"And _you're_ gorgeous!" Ron threw his hands in the air. "If I'd have known you'd get this jealous I'd have-"

"You'd have _what_, Ronald?" Hermione hissed. Her eyes were squinted into slits and her arms were crossed. He smiled at her and brushed a stray curl away from her face.

"I'd have dated you sooner." He said quietly. Hermione wavered, and then unfolded her arms. Ron shook his head at her and drew her into his arms. "You're absolutely mental." He whispered against her hair. She huffed a breath against his chest.

"So nothing is…?"

"Nothing is going on with me and Madame Rosmerta." Ron told her, pulling back to place a soft kiss on her nose. "Nothing except for a very lucrative real-estate deal."

Hermione frowned at him, then her eyes flickered around the room. _She's so bloody smart_. Ron thought, watching the thought pop onto her face. _I love this girl._ She looked up at him in amazement.

"This is yours?" She asked, circling to take in the whole room, shabby carpet and all. "You…you live here?" her voice was disbelieving.

"Will live here. Soon. As soon as the upstairs bathroom has some repairs." He jerked his head towards the stairs. "Do you want to see?" He asked, taking her hand and walking up.

"But how can…how are you…affording this?" She asked in a quiet voice. Ron shrugged.

"I told you George was having trouble with the store. It's because he's trying to develop into Hogsmeade. That's next door, what those boys were looking at in the shop window. But I said earlier that-"

"There's only so much you can do from long distance." Hermione repeated, walking slowly around the small bedroom. He'd used some of his mother's thick, warm quilts to dress the bed, and most of his clothes were already in the closet. "So you're going to be…"

"Much closer to you. And much more available when you're able to sneak out of the castle to come shag me." He told her with a cheeky grin. She had no choice but to smile back.

"What about training?" She asked, running her hands over the bookshelf against the wall. Ron could practically see her filling it up and then alphabetizing everything.

"What are floos for?" He asked, stepping forward to wrap his arms around her. Her eyes darted around the room even as she snuggled into his embrace.

"And your parents?"

Ron winced. "I'd rather like for my bedroom to be a parent-free zone from now on, yeah. Let's just not even bring them up at all."

Hermione narrowed her eyes and her gaze finally fell on him. "Parent-free? And why's that?" Her eyes were rounded and innocent, but her hands had already fallen between them to unbutton her coat. Ron grinned.

"Thoughts of them tend to interfere with the thoughts of the things I'd like to do with you." He said, his words punctuated by the _thud_ of her thick coat on the floor. She cocked her head to the side and slid her sweater up over her head, leaving her in just a thin camisole.

"Do with me. What are you going to do with me?" She asked. Her voice had taken on a soft, husky tone that made Ron's heart go crazy.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Oh, you know. Painting, re-decorating, order dinner, play some chess. Shag tirelessly…"

Her fingers got to work on his own buttons.

"That last one sounds intriguing." She whispered, rising onto her tip-toes to press her lips into his. Ron groaned and all but tackled her to the bed.

Later, when he'd regained his power of thought and Hermione was sleeping deeply on his chest, he took the time to study the room. For the first time, now that she was in it, he could see what it would look like with some repairs, a new rug…and her.

Ron smiled and looked down at Hermione, wondering if she'd really object that much to naming their first born after a local barmaid.


End file.
